


Somewhere in Darna

by Runespoor



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Gen, Jabarro's A+ parenting, Lene is a smart girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runespoor/pseuds/Runespoor
Summary: Lene's never let a little thing like it not being her place to talk keep her from speaking out. Ares' never been encouraged to do the same.Two grown-up kids, before fate catches up to them.





	Somewhere in Darna

“That man treats you like a dog,” Lene comments, watching the back of the mercenary commander as he walks away. It’s not her place to say, but when has that ever stopped her? “And I wouldn’t even talk to a dog the way he talks to you. You’re not _dumb_ , you do kinda need to know the particulars of the job before setting out.”

The beautiful brow of the tall drink of water in front of her crumples in untold, obvious emotion, and Lene checks her impulse to saunter down the stage and smooth the frown lines away; the guy doesn’t creep her out the way some of her clients do – he’s made no attempt to grope her, or to ogle more of her skin than what she’s displaying – but he’s still got an unhappy look and a sword at his belt: a dangerous combination. 

“Jabarro’s right, though, he—I shouldn’t question him. He raised me.”

“Hmmm,” Lene says instead of disagreeing outright. Gratitude’s good and proper and all, but if the sisters had talked to her like that she’d have left the orphanage even earlier, and not just because she wanted to earn a living for herself. “You could ask him to put his orders in writing, maybe? That way he wouldn’t have to worry about someone else overhearing. Read, then burn.”

But then there’d be a risk that it would be stolen. On the other hand, it’d be a pretty hardy thief that decided to risk the wrath of a mercenary, instead of just stealing from merchants. Lene peers at the mercenary, just to confirm her opinion – sword, check, stormy look, check, chiseled cheekbones, alluring figure, and long, golden locks, check and check again – he’s probably more at a risk of smitten girls throwing themselves at him than of his things being stolen. 

“I’m not much of a reader,” he admits, with a shrug that looks like a jolt. “The commander tried to teach me when I was a boy, but I wasn’t…” 

By now Lene’s of the opinion she’d rather drink bitter herbs rather than leave a child at the mercy of this guy’s commander. She lucked out with the orphanage, no doubt.

“You could learn now. Nothing wrong with picking up a skill you didn’t as a kid: plus, it’s pretty handy.” Lene’s not a spy herself, but knowing how to read got her out of almost as many tight spots as her tongue got her in.

He nods – a bit reluctantly – then cocks his head. “You know how to read?”

Lene huffs. Just because she’s a dancer!... 

“The sisters at the orphanage taught us our letters,” she says. “It’s not that hard if you’ve got a patient teacher and if you can practice.”

The mercenary doesn’t notice her cheap shot at his mentor, or doesn’t question it – good, she’s not planning on ceasing anytime soon; bad, because questioning things is the absolute basics of not letting the world screw you over. 

Instead, he nods until a resolute expression steals over his face.

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to have dinner, can you teach me? To read? I’m Ares,” he adds, off her startled expression, “the Black Knight, and the son of Eldigan of Nordion.”

At some point, Lene realizes her jaw dropped. That’s a lot to take in – starting with the fact that, like, isn’t Nordion on the other side of the continent? And who’s this Eldigan guy, and why should it matter to her – Ares said his name as though he was someone Lene should know about – is Ares the bastard of someone important? (Might explain the chip on his shoulder, and the taking-in by his asshole boss.)

Aaaaand he’s waiting for her answer.

“Yeah, sure,” finally works itself out of her mouth. “Teaching you how to read is gonna take longer than a chat over dinner, though. _Weeks_ longer,” she stresses quickly, in case Ares thinks she’s hinting at spending the night together. 

“Well, we’re gonna stay a while, the commander said. If you teach me,” he adds slowly, “I could act as your protector. See that customers don’t bother you.”

Now there’s an idea. It’s pretty pleasing to imagine, Ares standing by and ready to be called to arms in case of trouble; she’s been on her own for a while, and she loves the independence, but she doesn’t love the risks. The set-up Ares offers could lessen the latter without losing the former: perfect. And, of course, Ares is still easy on the eyes and she’s not opposed to seeing more of him. 

She basks into imagining it a moment, then corks it back down before it goes to her head. 

“Let’s get dinner first,” she suggests. “See how it goes.”

She’s not surprised when Ares acquiesces without arguing, and she does spare a second to judge the hell out of the person who taught him to follow orders without thinking for himself, but it’s okay: if the arrangement works out, that will come, too.


End file.
